


From above

by LargestLobster1337



Category: MCU, Spiderman (MCU)
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Gen, Hallucinations, Inappropriate Behavior, Innocent love, M/M, Martial Arts, Peter acts like a big brother, Peter has anxiety, Peter is trying his best, Sexual References, Underage Substance Use, dying character, mental breakdowns, past trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:55:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24620419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LargestLobster1337/pseuds/LargestLobster1337
Summary: When you think space, most people think aliens, comets, and Nasa. Peter on the other hand thinks of headaches.Why? Because of HIM!
Relationships: Peter Parker/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	1. A typical night in New York city

If you asked Peter why he did it. Why he put so much at risk for no reward, no recognition, no respect, he'd say its because he can. He can take the hits, roll with the punches, patch up the bruises. He can do things others can't, and thats all the motivation he needs. 

But it's a lie. 

Not a complete lie mind you, but a lie nonetheless. The unequivocal truth is that he simply liked the attention. He liked when he saw people wear T-shirts with his symbol on it. Liked when he saw kids dress up like him for halloween, or play with action figures in the street. Hell, he even liked when crackpots claimed to be him on national TV! 

Isn't that like... the ultimate compliment!?!? 

It makes him feel important whenever he sees Spider Man graffiti on his walk to school, or when he hears people talk about seeing him swing around the city. He loves when people stop him and ask for selfies, ask for autographs. 

Sometime's they even give him stuff, like this incredibly yummy chilly cheese dog! The guy he saved from a mugging just happened to be the owner of a hotdog stand, and grilled this bad boy up for _Spider Man_ as a way to say "thank you.”

As a rule, you should never eat something someone gives to you for free. You never know who's out to poison you these days. Well, at least thats what Mr.Stark says.

But damn, fighting crime certainly works up a appetite! Don't judge him. You try swinging around the city, climbing buildings, and fighting off gun wielding criminals on a empty stomach! When Phillip offered him a free meal he almost took of his mask to devour it right then and there! He managed to curve that impulse though. He always does. If he chooses to ignore Mr.Starks no eating rule, he does so safely. 

So he climbed to the top of a nearby high rise. One far enough off the ground to where he can take off his mask without anyone seeing him. His newly bare face was cool, and his hair was matted down from sweat. 

You know he tried to make a mask with a mouth hole once? True story. He even took it out on patroll once. The idea was that it would allow him to breath better, but he didnt take into account the sheer amount of insects buzzing around the place. You think all those moths and flies only come out at night? Nope... 

He didnt have a appetite that day. He ate more bugs then he cares to think about. Maybe he should just focus on this delicious hotdog instead! 

A large, beef frank, a toasted bun, fresh chilli with just a hint of spice, and a assortment of different cheeses melted on top. Delicious. And the fact that its free just makes it even better! 

He savored it. Even went as far as to close his eyes. Little moments like this mean more to him then they did a month ago. His shoulders still hurt from when that building collapsed on him. When Liz's dad tried to kill him in a giant, metal bird suit. 

_Breath Peter..._

He tries not to dwell on unpleasant memories. He's had panic attacks ever since Ben died. Its the one thing about himself that the spider's augmentation didn't help with. Sure, he was stronger, and quicker, and sharper. But if the vulture taught him anything at all, it was that he was far from invincible. 

He's on a roof, chewing a chilli dog, watching the night sky. Thats all that matters. At this moment theres no vulture trying to decapitate him, no ferry's being ripped apart, no disappointed girlfriends. No reason to freak out. 

All that matters is this chilli dog, the cool air, the cars zipping through the streets below him. 

His eyes went into the sky. Even with his augmentation, he had trouble seeing through the cities light pollution. He could see a few planes overhead, sure, but thats not what he's looking for. 

He wants to see the stars. 

He can squint, and strain, and lean, but it doesn't help. That is until he sees just one of them glimmering in the distance. A single star waving at him through the cosmos. 

_It almost looks like its getting brighter._ He thinks with a smile. 

Of course the smile instantly turned into a frown when he realized that it was, infact getting brighter. And naturally that frown turned into horror when he realized it was getting bigger! Closer! 

"Oh shit!" 

By the time he dropped his hotdog and pulled his mask back onto his head, the comet had already flown over head. "Karen, what is that thing!?" 

"It appears to be a object hurdling towards the city." 

"I _know_ that! Where's it going!?" 

"Down." 

The thing about Karen is that she _has_ to give a answer. She can't say she doesn't know. Its up to Peter to ask the proper questions, and give proper orders. 

"Notify the fire department and track its descent!" He yells, his arms straining to swing him from building to building without losing sight of the object. 

"The object is currently traveling at one hundred twenty miles a hour, at an altitude of three thousand feet." 

He groans. Theres no way he's going to keep up with it, so he makes it a priority to swing from the highest buildings he can in order to keep visual.

_Deep breaths peter. Don't over exert yourself. You don't know what that thing is or what happens when it hits the ground._

"Object is traveling at 80 miles per hour, at a altitude of two hundred feet." 

"Why is it slowing down?!?" 

"The object appears to be in a controlled descent." She says. Of course the thing went nose down the second she did. "Scratch that. Its plummeting at incredible speeds." 

Straight. Fucking. Down. 

Peter looked on in horror as the object collided into the childrens park next to a four way intersection. "Oh my god!" He screams, the blast blowing out the windows around him, and dislodging his web. 

He activated the web like wings his suit provides. Gliding over the street and landing just a few yards away from the fire. 

At first he had assumed that the object was a airplane. A small private jet or something like that. But he had unfortunately seen plane crashes before, and this looked to be different. Gasoline explodes and burns with a orange tint. This however looked to spark furiously, almost like a massive lithium battery. Blue and white streaks showered the street and the cars who happened to pass by. Luckily the damage was relatively contained, and the park was empty.

He waited for a while, covering his ears and turning away from the wreckage to avoid being rendered blind by the light and deaf from the spark's screams. But their was a feeling he couldn't shake. 

The 'Peter Tingle' as Aunt May so dubbed it, is a bit of a abstract thing. Even to Peter. Its almost like a extremely strong gut feeling that somehow provides him with a unspecific, but somehow clairvoyant mental image. 

In layman's terms. He can see, without seeing. 

There was something in that wreckage. Clawing, thrashing, screaming. It was sentient, alive. But what?

Its not like he could just waltz over, push through the flames, and offer a helping hand. The threat of another alien threat was still fresh in his mind. Hell it was in every New Yorker's mind after the events of 2012. But who _starts_ a invasion with a crash landing? 

_They could just be incompetent..._

The sparks die down, as does the heat, and the smooth black craft came into view. "Karen. Can you identify the aircraft please?" 

_Please? She's a AI peter!_

"There is no craft that matches this one. At least not one I have access to." 

Something slammed into the craft from the inside, a small blue flame erupting from the epicenter. "Peter, It looks like there's some internal pressure building up in that crafts cabin. I recommend retreating at least three hundred yards." His AI warns. Another blast, this one stronger, more desperate. 

_Someone's in there._

He knows the risk. The possibility of danger hit him like a truck. But what if this is simply some test pilot in some experimental aircraft? It's not implausible after all. And who ever is in there defiantly needs help getting out. 

He takes a step forward....

"I detect no life signals in that craft Peter. Recommend immediate retreat!" 

Too late. The tingle hit him before the concussive blast did. He wasn't so much knocked backwards as he was thrown, his back slamming into the brick apartment building behind him with enough force to almost knock a tooth or two out of his mouth. He managed to shield his skull from smashing into the concrete, and took a moment to breath. 

Theres a certain shock value shared between explosions and extreme cold he realized. A certain paralyzing quality that had him making sure all his limbs were where they should be. His hearing was gone, sure, but he retained his vision. 

He could see something make its way out of the wreckage. A humanoid figure in a all black, skin tight suit not super unlike Peter's own. The biggest difference was the armored plates, pouches and helmet. And you know.... the fact it was all black. 

The figure sprinted off into the darkness, reminding Peter that the sidewalk isn't exactly the best place for a nap. He scrambles to his feet and sprints off behind the figure, "Hey, wait!" 

Of course the figure didn't wait, and continued sprinting away at a notably high speed. Not Captain America type speed mind you, but defiantly fast enough to where Peter had to swing from building to building to catch up to him. 

He shouted at the thing to stop, but it either didn't understand him or didn't care. It saw him, it knew he was there. It just didn't seem to give a damn. So, knowing the risks, Peter swung in front of it, effectively cutting off its path through a alleyway. 

The figure skid to a stop just a few yards away from him. "Didn't your mother tell you its rude to ignore people!?" Peter yelled, throwing his arms to the side. "You just crashed into a children's park. People gotta pay for that you know!? On behalf of the taxpayers of this city I demand to see your license and registration!" 

Even under the mask, Peter could tell that the figure, who he deduced was male, was _very_ confused. "Maybe just start by telling me who you are?" 

Peter took a deep breath when the male took a step forward. Peter didn't need the tingle to tell him what was coming. Sure, he was never a martial artist by any stretch of the imagination. I mean he did do a little bit of boxing when he was younger, but he was never _looking_ for a fight. 

He leaned back, narrowly dodging the right hand hooks. It's pretty common amongst street thugs to try to get a cheap shot in, so its not like Peter didn't expect that. No, it was the sweep after the punch that caught him off guard. 

It was a weird, hip bump, wax on wax off motion that Peter was _totally_ gonna look up on Youtube after this is all over. The fucking thing dropped him on his head and took of sprinting immediately after. Peter shot a web right onto the mans back and pulled him back, scorpion style. 

"Get over here!" 

Of course no one expects the Spider Man pull back attack, but Peter has too admit he rolled with the motion pretty well. Momentum reduces injury, and a reduction of injury helps in a fight obviously. 

A foot slammed into Peters ribcage, although it felt more like a baseball bat then a limb. It didn't knock him over, but it still hurt. Peter suddenly regretted not taking martial arts when he was younger. Sure, he was fast, and he could throw a punch, but he was _badly_ losing the fight. It actually reminded him of wrestling his dad when he was smaller. 

Of course this person was most definitely not his dad, and held nothing back as it slammed him on his back with some weird chest to chest suplex that knocked the wind out of him. He cant use his webs at this close a range. Theirs just no angle to fight from when you cant even get to your feet. 

Peter struggled to get out of the persons hold, a arm snaking its way around peter's neck and shoulder in a sort of arm triangle. 

_He's gonna choke me out!_ Peter screamed internally. His desperation increased ten fold, but even with all his strength he failed to escape the hold. The light began to fade before they changed to yellow and orange, and suddenly the pressure vanished. 

It was the good ol' New York fire department, here to save the day, and (embarrassingly) Spider Man! 

Peter scrambles to his feet and dashes off after the figure again. 

"Dude! You're being a total prick right now!" Peter yells, once again being ignored. "Stop ignoring me and get back here!" 

Super soldier serum. That's the only thing that makes sense right? He was strong, and fast, and obviously had a bit of training to say the least. You don't just _almost_ choke out Spider Man ya know! 

_Keep your distance. Web em up. Go for their legs._

Mr.Starks advice echoed in his brain. If he's correct, and this is a man who somehow had access to a super soldier serum, then the game plan should still stand, right? 

Of course _that_ game plan involved Iron man, War Machine (which is a far superior name to Iron Patriot) Black Widow, Black Panther, and Vision, but he'll have to worry about all that later. 

Swinging from building to building, Peter watched the man nearly sprint into traffic. Obviously he didn't know where he was going, and looked to be in survival mode. 

"Look both ways before crossing the street!" 

Strafing run. Peter attempts to fire off a flurry of webs at the mans legs, but is dodged. Either this guy has a byakugon, or his own little 'Peter tingle". 

_I really need to stop calling it that._

Goosebumps. Peter knew something was coming when the figure suddenly turned to face him. He expected a gun, maybe a grenade.

Not lightning. 

Red lightning to be exact. Definitely not the product of a super serum. The electric blast barely missed Peter, but struck his web, breaking it. He hit the street and rolled with the momentum before ducking behind a car that was stuck in traffic. 

"Hey! Thats no fair man! I’m only using webs!" 

"I missed you on purpose you fucking crybaby!" Ahh there it is. A voice, that confirmed the thing not only _can_ speak, but can speak english. Had a bit of a accent though. But not one Peter can recognize. "How long you gonna keep chasing me for!?" 

"Until you get tired of being chased!" 

"Im tired of it now! So can you fuck off!?"

"Oh yeah sure I’ll leave..." Peter yells back. At this point he noticed the guy in the car beside him filming the entire conversation, and flashed him a friendly neighborhood Spider Man thumbs up. "That was sarcasm by the way!" 

No response. It was either a trap, and he was waiting for Peter to peak his head out. Or he skiddadled. Peter bit the bullet and peaked his eye around the corner. 

"Son of a bitch..." 

Peter half ran, half crouched between the cars, trying to find the black figure once more. "Karen, highlight possible escape routes please." 

There were three alleyways, two of them were close, but on opposite sides of the street. He flipped a mental coin and turned left, and obviously for narative reasons, he was right. 

"Stop right there criminal scum!" 

This time he listened. He looked so fucking annoyed, and honestly it filled Peter with a bit of pride that he was able to get that reaction. "What the _fuck_ do you want!? Can’t you see I'm trying to run away!? Why are you even chasing me anyways? I didn't break any laws!" 

"You crashed a plane into a children's park and then shot lightning at me! Thats at least destruction of public property and attempted assault with a Harry Potter spell!" 

"You were stalking me!"

"Because you _crashed_ a plane!" 

He looks pissed. Well, Peter _assumes_ he looked pissed anyways. It’s kinda hard to tell with the helmet on, but he certainly moved like he was upset. He's even doing that hand on the head thing that Peter does when he's frustrated. "Look....you don't look like the bad guy okay? Bit I'm really not up for whatever _this_ is right now, okay? I’m just gonna go." 

He turned, and of course Peter shot a web onto his butt. He was aiming for his legs, but shot just a bit too high. 

Peter cringed, and actually released the web."Oh.... I’m sorry. I wasn't aiming there, I swear." 

"You're not the first one who did this to me you know." 

"It was a accident!" 

"That’s sexual assault. You have to let me go now." He said, and pulled the white sticky substance off his backside with impossible ease. "Please tell me this stuff ain't coming out of you." 

"Its just artificial webbing I made in chemistry class..." 

_Peter! You fucking fool!_

There was a moment of awkward silence while the figure took in what he had just heard. "Class!?" He screamed, cocking his head sideways.

Peter could practically feel this guy scanning over his body. "How old are you!?" He asked, suddenly a whole lot less combative. "Dont tell me I just tried to explode some kid..." 

"You said you missed on purpose!" 

"Im not talking about the lightning!" He yells back. Peter almost asked what he meant, but the man explained. "You wanna know how I know you're not on my level? Because you didn't look up..." 

Of course the first thing that peter did was look up. He wasn’t exactly sure what he'd find. Maybe a missile? Or a bomb. Something that goes "Boom"! 

But their was nothing... And that’s when Peter realized he had made a horrible mistake. 

It was a ruse, you see. There was never anything up there. The man in black just wanted Peter to look up so he could kick him in the web shooter. 

You know.... the one in his pants. 

Every man within a three mile radius felt a overwhelming sense of pain as Peter collapsed to his knees. The fucking guy kicked him and then giggled at him like a fucking child! "Sorry Mr. Spider person. But you weren't using it anyways." He said, giving peter a little wave before sprinting away. 

Peter just focused on not dying.


	2. Copy Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is a child. And Peter has to check on Pepper while he’s away. Ensuring yet another detention

He regretted talking to Tony about the Man in Black rather quickly. The suit records everything he sees. Which means Tony saw the footage, including the ending where Peter got kicked. 

Which means Tony laughed at him.... 

Peter thought the laughter would die down after a few hours. But it's been two weeks now, and just last night he had been victim to yet another phone call from Tony that consisted of nothing but laughter. 

So when he felt his phone vibrate in third period, and he checked to see that it was Tony, he let it go to voicemail. Usually Tony would get the hint and just leave a message or send a text. Something that Peter could look at later. 

This time he called again... 

The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Mr. Stark knows he's in class right now. Its 10:30 A.M on a Tuesday, so theirs no way he doesn't know. Which means this is probably super important. 

_Maybe its about the Avengers!?!_

"Mr. Williams!" Peter yells a bit louder then he intended. The lecture about the acidification of the oceans comes to a halt as everyone turns to stare at Peter. 

"I have to use the bathroom." 

A few of his classmates giggled. Everyone just chalked it up to Peter having a bad case of IBS, including Mr.Williams. 

As a man who just had his fourty five minute non stop rant about carbonic acid interrupted, he was, as the kids say, _done_. 

"Peter, if you have to go just go! Don't interrupt me!" He says sternly. 

Peter was embarrassed, but didn't dwell on it. He took his leave and dialed back Mr. Stark as soon as the door had closed behind him. 

It rang for a second before Mr. stark picked it up. 

"Hey kid, you busy right now?" 

Peter took a second to comprehend the tone in Tony's voice. It was calm, natural. Not at all tense like he had expected. He seemed entirely normal. 

"Is everything okay, Mr.Stark?" 

"Yeah...Im in Dubai. Im calling in a favor, if thats alright.?" 

"Well actually Mr. stark..." 

"Great, can you swing by the tower and check on Pep? There was a alarm trip and she's in the panic room. Those alarms go off

all the time, so its probably nothing." 

"Can't you just ask Happy to check then?" 

"Happy is stuck in traffic. Won't be there for another hour or so." 

Peter groaned as quietly as he could. "Mr.Stark I really can't." 

Of course when the famous billionare Tony Stark wants something, he always gets it. Even if he's childish in the process. 

"Whats that kid? You're breaking up. I'm in a tunnel.." It was very obvious that he was most definantly not in a tunnel. Peter hardly needed augmented hearing to realize that the "static" was simply Tony being a ass. "Panic room is by the bar on the top floor. Thanks again kid!" 

And that ladies and gentlemen is a Tony Stark master class on how to volunteer someone for something they had no intention of doing. Nevertheless Peter felt obligated to at least run by the Avenger's tower. 

You know, its funny. When he was little he was obsessed with the Avengers, even before they were known as "the Avengers". He had a whole bunch of action figures, posters, and shirts. Hell he even attended a Stark expo in 2010!

Of course that was the one where all the robots went crazy, and he ended up almost being killed in the massacre, and Iron Man himself had to literally swoop in and save him, but thats besides the point. 

After all, that was the moment he decided he wanted to be just like _Iron Man._

But now, as he ditched school (ensuring another detention) and made his way towards that massive high rise guarding the city below, he felt almost uninterested. Not bored per say, but, ya know, not overly excited. 

Now in all honesty, he wasn't sure if he was supposed to head through the front entrance, or the under ground one like he does with Happy. 

Its not rude for him to just swing up to the top floor right? He _was_ invited afterall. And that's where Ms.Potts's panic room is anyways. Still, it felt akin to being invited to your friends house but going in through the window, instead of the door. 

He pushed the feeling aside, and ran up the side of the building. You know he has no idea how he can do this, right? Yeah, he has little barbs on his body, bit why doesn't the suit interfere with them? Doesn't matter! Lets get on with the story. 

He flipped on to the Iron Man landing zone and walked into the building. Naturally there wasn't anyone in sight, but that was to be expected. He _does_ feel a bit off though. Not quite enough to make his Peter tingle itch (really needs to find a new name for that) but enough to put him on edge. 

_I feel like I'm being watched._

"I detect no signs of life Peter." Karen says, sensing the sudden increase in his pulse. "May I suggest that you're over thinking?" 

"You're probably right." 

He takes a deep breath and makes his way into the building. Taking a quick look around. Again, he could see nothing, but that feeling was still there. 

_Breath Peter...._

Maybe he was just paranoid? Like when he wakes up in the middle of the night after a nightmare, and can't fall back asleep? Maybe he isn't actually being watched? 

_Or maybe I am?_

He could practically feel his heart beat on his ears. Each pump deafening him. He heard a click over his shoulder, and turned with his hand out and taser webs on. 

Pepper peaked her head out from the safe room, a soft smile on her face. "Hey kid!" She greets, coming out of the safe room completely and swinging the hidden door closed behind her. "I told Tony that Friday was acting weird, and that the alarm was tripped on the eighteenth floor. But he insisted on getting you any.... you okay?" 

Peter realized he still had his wrist locked and ready to fire on her. His shoulders deflated as he lowered his hand. "S-sorry." He stammered out. 

Pepper's face was blank for a second before a knowing look replaced it. "Still having nightmares huh?" She asks. It was a statement, she knew the answer, but she waited for Peter to nod anyways. "It's okay. It happens to everyone. Even Tony wakes up still thinking he's in a cave from time to time." 

Peter has a vague memory about Mr.Starks imprisonment. He was young at the time, only five years old in fact. He remembers glimpses of news articles, photographs, videos. It didnt mean much to him at the time. Hell, it didnt mean anything to him until he _met_ Tony. 

But even now, he never thought to _ask_ Tony about it. It was always in the back of his mind. The thought of " _oh my god, the things he's been through_."

"So it never goes away..." He whispers. 

She gives him a sad smile. "Away? No. Never away. But it gets easier. The nightmares get less frequent. The dark gets a little less intimidating. I used to have nightmares about blowing up randomly, you know? But now it feels like I never even had the virus.... are you thirsty?" 

He's only met Pepper a handful of times, and while all their interactions have been pleasant, he has noticed she has a bit of a problem staying on task. She can multi task like no one else! But to maintain a single conversation seems like a challenge for her. He's not complaining though. Its one of the reasons she's Mr.Starks biggest asset. 

"I know you're not old enough to drink, but I got some Redbull if you want it?" 

"Are you sure thats alright?" 

"Yeah. Tony kinda forced you into this anyways. The old 'tunnel' trick I presume?" She asks. Peter's chuckle answered her question on its own, but he nodded anyways. "Yeah that's kinda his thing. Say no and he just pretends he can't hear you. Its actually kind of annoying." 

_It is kind of annoying._

He chuckled to himself, and pulled his mask off and over his head. Curiousity takes over, and he glances at the digital clock on the wall. 

11:15 

"I am _so_ getting detention..." he sighed, taking a seat at the bar and resting his cheek in his palm. Pepper poured him a Red Bull into a mug and slid it over to him. It looked like she was doing her best to look like one of those tough, saloon bartenders he sees in western movies. But since she's well...... HER, it didn't look too convincing. Still, he chuckled, and gratefully accepted the drink. "Does this happen a lot, Ms.Potts?" 

"The tunnel trick? Yeah I'd say so." 

"No, hehe. I mean the false alarms? You said Friday was acting funny?" 

"Oh. Yes and no. This is the avengers tower you know? Lots of security and _lots_ of fanboys. Every once in a while we get a guy who manages to break into the first floor looking for captain america or someone like that. Alot of people think the Avengers just live here for some reason. Anyways this breach came from the eighteenth floor, the main server room, and thats never happened before. So I hid in the panic room, called tony, and waited for the security teams to give the all clear. Not sure why he called you though? Probably just paranoid. Overkill is just being thorough right, Spider Man? Did he get you in trouble?" 

"Probably a little. I was in class, and kinda just left in the middle of it. I doubt they think I've been in the bathroom for the last hour." 

_Speaking of bathroom...._

"Do you mind if I..." 

"Upstairs, first door on the left." Pepper read his mind. He excused himself, and even tried to push in the barstool to be extra polite. Of course the bar stool was bolted to the ground, and instead he just looked like a idiot, but it's the thought that counts. 

She held in a chuckle as he gave a awkward bow and fast walked up the stairs. You know, he's never actually been to the penthouse before? He knows the lower levels pretty well, but the very tippy top? Well, he's only seen pictures. Back when the avengers would hold private parties. Right before that whole Ultron incident. 

_Good times invite bad times._

It's a thought that keeps popping into his head, even at the most pleasant of moments. It kept him awake at night. Kept him quite with his friends. Kept him on his toes. Always watching, and waiting. 

His heart rate accelerated, along with his breathing. That sense of fear anchoring around him as it drags him down into a ocean of dread. His throat felt like it was swelling up. He's had enough panic attacks to know when one was coming. 

_Breath Peter. Just splash some water on your face and calm down._

He half sprinted the rest of the way up the stairs and swung the bathroom door open so quickly that it almost snapped off its hinges. He was sure Pepper had to have at least glanced up at him, but he didn't care. 

The dark room illuminated automatically, but the bulb above him fizzling out, sending him into darkness again. No matter. He managed to get to the sink anyways, and splashed his face with water. 

His body drooped, but he didn't care that his chest was getting wet. If he hadn't leaned against the counter, theres a good chance that his nausea would have knocked him to the floor. The cold water helped cool his rapidly heating skin, but only so much could be done about everything else. 

"Breath... breath Peter..." 

He was sure he was breathing as deeply as he could. But his lungs just refused to fill with air, leaving him breathless. 

No matter how rational he thought. How many times he assured himself that he would get through this. There was always that little voice in the back of his head telling him the opposite. That vulture shaped demonic presence drilling itself into his psyche. Always waiting in the shadows. 

That feeling of being watched never left. But somehow it had gotten even stronger then it was just a few moments ago. "I-its just in your head peter..." 

**_"It really isn't."_ **

He nearly jumped right onto the ceiling when the voice growled in his ear. The only thing that anchored him into place was the arm that had wrapped around his neck. The sharp metal barrel of what had to be some sort of pistol jabbed his temple roughly. 

"So. Your name's Peter, huh? I was hoping for something a little more arachnid based. But I guess you weren't tailor made for the role." 

That accent. That almost playful, but still threatening demeanor. Sure, he wasn't the vulture that haunted him. But he was perhaps the second worst thing at the moment. "Y-you're the Man in Black!?!?" He yelled, the arm around his neck tightening briefly as a warning. He gagged as the pressure was released. 

"Shhhh! I'm whispering for a reason!" The man whispered, his helmet pressed against the back of Peters skull. "Man in black huh? Not much of a name. More of a description if anything...."

"What the hell are you doing h- ugh!" The arm tightened again, and left Peter gagging. He was strong. Inhumanly strong. Maybe not as strong as Peter, but strong enough to where he couldn't peel the arm off him. "Stop!" 

"If you're gonna talk. Talk quietly..." He whispered again, emphasizing the weapon to Peter's head. "I don't want to hurt you Peter. But ultimately its your decision how this goes. Not mine." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I snuck in. I was trying to sneak out before your angsty ass decided to ruin whatever chance I had of doing so. Thanks for that by the way..." 

_He can't be that much older then me._ Peter thought to himself. Sure, his voice was a bit off, a bit strange with the accent and all. But the way he talked in a almost joking matter just felt... young. 

"So here's the plan. I'm going to use you as a human shield and hope that Ms. Red Head likes you enough to not do anything stupid." He said. Peter gulped, his breathing still shallow and rapid. "If she hits the alarm a nano-bot curtain blocks off all the windows, and a squad of armed goons comes charging in fifteen seconds later. Now I can blow through the shield, but it would hurt less to take out the guards........ Peter?" 

Hearing his name from someone holding a gun to his head was jarring to say the least. "H-huh?" 

"You're freaking out on me. Kinda makes me nervous you know." 

"S-sorry." 

The lights flickered before turning on. Peter _knew_ that it was the Man in Black already. But to literally see him hold a gun to his head was jarring. His only comfort was that the man's finger was on the guard instead of the trigger. "Its fine. Just calm down for me, okay? I told you I didn't wanna hurt anyone, remember? If I wanted you dead, I woulda put a brain buddy in your head already. 

"B-brain buddy?" 

"A bullet..." he was smirking.

Well, peter assumes he's smirking anyways. His voice got slightly lighter, and he seemed proud of his little nickname. "I thought it was cute." 

"More like morbid." 

A chuckle. It was soft, but it was a chuckle none the less. And for whatever reason, it made Peter feel just a teensy bit better. "Morbid can be cute sometimes. Like your little crush on that black chick, hmm? She's plenty morbid." 

He racked his brain for a minute. Liz defiantly wasn't morbid, not in Peter's opinion at least. Does she tell dark jokes on occasion? Yeah. Who doesn't? So maybe he didnt mean Liz? 

_Maybe he means MJ!?!?!?_

"If you lay a single god damn finger on her! Ugh!" The grip tightened again. A inhuman growl emanated from the man in black's throat, sending a chill down Peter's spine.

"You'll what!? Remember Parker, I'm the one holding the gun to your head!" He said. That playful tone took a back seat to a threatening, almost feral one. "The mask only keeps you hidden for so long. You really think I don't know who you are? I don't know about May, or Ben? Ned or Michelle, or Thompson? I had you profiled for a week. I just fucked up today!" 

So he's a spy. A sort of infiltrator unit. Peter isn't really sure where red lightning comes into the mix, but hey, he's technically a shield agent and he's part spider! 

Also.... Red Lightning sounds way better then Man in Black!

Peter mulled over the threat. Well, it wasn't exactly a direct threat as much as it was implied. Whats the point of letting Peter know he knew all about his friends if he didn't intend to use that against him? 

His heart ached at the thought of not being able to help his friends. Maybe its better to go with the flow and not take a risk."What exactly are you looking for?" He muttered, half expecting to get chocked again. 

"I'm looking for information." 

"What information?" 

The man sighed, and made a little clocking sound with his tongue. "You sure you wanna know? There's kinda a sad story that goes along with it." Peter inwardly groaned, but nodded. "Alright. Here I go..." 

Peter could feel the mans chest on his back expand as he took a deep breath. 

"So.... There's this guy right. He's kinda like my parent, but he's a but immature. Anyways, I was looking into something and I was really trying to impress him! But I fucked up, and he essentially disowned me and left me to my own devices. And.... I dont know. That broke something inside of me I think. That little kid that just wants to make his parents proud, you know? Anyways I was so determined to prove myself that I just fought on my own, without his help, and I was doing pretty good too! But it turns out that the main guy I was fighting against was _also_ my girlfriend's dad and he managed to figure out that I was the guy fucking with him because my girl couldn't keep her fucking mouth shut...."

"Thats **_my_** story!" Peter growled. Sure, Peter had a habit of fucking with the criminals he fought against. Hell he even got one guy to turn himself in through the power of sheer annoyance alone! But when the tables are flipped its alot less enjoyable. His laugh was light, and energetic. Peter could tell he was actively trying to hush himself, but seemed to be having some trouble."It's not funny!" 

Of course Peter's dismay only made him laugh harder, which made him cough, which sent him into a coughing fit. He held peter a bit tighter and leaned his head against his shoulder. Of course the mask muffled the coughs a little, but probably not enough to be considered stealthy. But stealthy was the last thing on Peters mind, and he noticed the weapon pressed against his head was just a bit looser then it had been a second ago. 

He's never actually had to do this before, but nows his chance. He grabs the barrel of the pistol with one hand and rips it out of the mans grasp so quickly that the man in black couldn't even flinch if he wanted to. Peter kicked the man away, webbed him up and backed out the door.

"Ms.Potts, sound the Alarm!" Peter screamed out, the webbed up figure blanketed by the lights going out again. "And call a electrician!" 

A blue spark caught Peters attention. It was small, and spread over his webs before exploding around the man in black. Peter instinctively put his arms up to block blue flames from hitting his face, but they still scorched his arms, and sent him backwards off the railing.

Just as foretold a nano-tech shield spread over the windows, the Man in Black obviously displeased with the current situation. 

"I thought we were having a moment, Peter!" He screamed, the frustration oh having his cover blown boiling over. "We laughed! We cried! We shared a warm embrace!" 

"You held me at gunpoint!" 

" ** _I_** shared a warm embrace! I just wanted to walk outta here and disappear into the crowd, and you had to fuck it all up for me! And the gun is empty by the way!" 

_The gun is empty?_

Okay, Peter is defiantly not a gun guy, so it took him a few moments to find the mag release. But to his surprise, those little brass cased candies were still shiny and bright in the clip. "Dude, this isn't emp..." 

_Mistake!_

The alarm in his head screamed as the fist collided with his temple. Peter felt three strikes in the flurry. The initial punch, the knee to his forearm that knocked the gun outta his hand, and a sort of spinning elbow that knocked him to the ground. His vision blurred for a second, but the combination of Flintstones vitamins and a well balanced breakfast was enough to fight off the concussion. 

Oh, and his healing factor probably had something to do with it too.... 

"For a guy who goes to some prestigious science school and is personally mentored by probably the smartest man on the planet, you're dumb as fuck." The man in black said, the weapon canted at eye level, and pointed directly at Peter's apparently empty skull. "I'll say it slowly so that you understand. _Do_ ** _not_** _move!"_

_"I was about to say the same to you."_

Somehow they had both been surprised by how quickly Pepper had managed to get that close to them. She had her gauntlet wrapped hand raised at the man's head. "Drop the gun and raise your hands above your head. Now!" 

With a drop and a pivot the man in moves his aim from Peter to Pepper, firing a round into he gauntlet. It knocked her back, but allowed Peter the moment he needed to jump to his feet and charge forward. Peter speared his shoulder into the mans gut, but was rolled, the man using his own momentum against him. 

Peter found himself on his back with the man mounted on his chest. "Lets see how strong that suit is!" The man growled, all the levity on his voice suddenly absent. His movement was too quick for Peter to stop him. In a flash, the man pressed the muzzle of the gun into his collar bone and pulled the trigger.

A scream of pain tore itself from Peters throat. Sure, the suit offered some protection. But his collar bone shattered anyways as a bullet ripped through the metal weaving and into him. The bullet singed his newly torn muscle, embedding itself inside him. 

Peter grit his teeth, and braced for a second round to tear through him, but a repulser blast shot the man off him before he managed to pull the trigger.

"Get the fuck away from him!" Pepper screamed. Peter worked his way into a sitting position, taking as much pressure off his left arm as he possibly could. Even with his healing factor, Peter knew it would take at least a few hours for the bullet to push itself out of him and the muscle to heal correctly. 

The doors at the end of the room burst open with a group of twelve armored guards with automatic weapons storming in, screaming commands. Peter instinctively covered his face with his hands. He looked around for him mask only to see in on the bar.

Pepper saw him, and managed to click the clues together, backing up to the bar and tossing the mask to him. 

"Thanks Ms.Potts." He groaned, pulling the mask over his head with just a little bit of strain. He lifted his left arm as little as he could, but it still hurt. 

The guards circled him for a second before turning their attention to the man in black. He was down on his knees with his hands in the air and the gun kicked out eight or so feet infront of him. If this was a normal person,Peter would feel a bit more at ease. But he's gotten the better of Peter twice now, and is taking no chances. He webbed up the Man in Black as much as he could. Or at least he looked like a snowman with a black helmet.

He could almost feel the aura of anger radiating of the mans body. It made Peter's skin hot. Not a good, sexy type of hot either. No. More like a "I need to get the hell out of here right now before I get stabbed" kind of hot. 

"You can't just use zipties like a normal person!?" The obviously pissed off man growled at Peter specifically. "You could've just played along and we both woulda been fine right now!" 

"You **shot** me!" 

"In the arm!" 

"And it fucking hurt!" 

"Only because you're a Pussy!" 

Peter closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and counted to ten in his head while clenching his jaw so hard he half expected his molars to shatter. Even when he's webbed up with only his head showing, he still toys with him! 

_Hmmm. His head._

With a groan Peter pushed himself to his feet, taking a step forward. "Don't." The man warned, knowing what was coming. Sure, Peter himself would be mortified if someone removed his mask in a situation like this. But this man in black was a bad guy, right? So its justified.... right?

He struggled and twisted. A few strains of web snapped, but the majority held him nice and tight. "You take this helmet off my head and I'll fucking beat you to death with it!" He growled. Peter reached his hans forward, but just as he was about to make contact with the helmet something strange happened. 

His ears popped. 

Now that itself wasn't strange. He's not impervious to pressure, obviously. But it actually hurt when they popped. At least enough for Peter to wince and stop in his tracks for a second. Which was apparently all the time it took... 

It was technically a explosion, he figured that much out right as it hit him. But he couldn't exactly understand how the man in black wasn't blown to bits in the process. It was strong enough to throw peter backwards, knocking himself and the poor guard he crashed into to the ground. Pain shot through him when his head bounced off the tile floor, his arms wrapping around his skull instinctively. 

His eyes were shut, and his hearing was gone, but he could still _feel_ the movement around him. By the time he managed to push the pain down enough for him to open his eyes, eleven of the twelve guards were down, and the Man in Black was about to finish off the last one. 

He managed to take the mans gun, rip his ankle off the ground, and hold the weapon above his head. All in a single flurry. Peter's reaction time kicked into overdrive, and manage to shoot a web and yank the weapon out of the man's hands just before he brought it down on the poor guards head. 

Of course, Peter couldn't save the guard from being punched in the face though. The man went unconscious immediately, and the assailant turned his sights to Peter. "You wanna hand me that thing?" He asked, referring to the rifle still in Peter's grasp. "I _know_ you ain't planning on pointing it at me." 

Spiderman can't use a gun. Sends a bad image to the kids, ya know. But for just a moment peter considered it. Just for a single, solitary second, he cluthed the weapon a little tighter. 

Red lightning slashed the weapon in half. It wasn't so much a direct strike as it was a whip like motion, which was confusing to Peters scientific senses. It arched, cracked. Looked heavy and strong. But it was electricity, and serpentine in movement. 

"Peter look out!" Pepper screamed, knocking his focus back into him before his body narrowly danced out of the lightning's strike. 

He got to his feet, and bobbed and weaved. Narrowly avoiding the strikes by a matter on inches. He fired off a few webs of his own, but the man in black seems to be just as elusive. 

However, Pepper happened to have concocted a little plan of her own. Not even Peter knew that she had patched Tony (who is in Dubai mind you) into the tower's camera feed. 

Peter _knew_ about the Iron Man suit's ability to be controlled anywhere on the planet. Tony had off handedly demonstrated that ability whilst rescuing him from hypothermia a while back. However he didn't expect that very same suit to burst _through_ the marble floor right between himself and the man in black. 

There was a brief pause in the carnage before the suit unleashed a devastating assault of repulser blasts and low yield, non lethal stun rounds on the man. He bore the brunt of the force head on, and for a brief second Peter was reminded just how powerful _Iron Man_ truly was. 

It wasn't so much a scream as it was a gasp that escaped the man in blacks mouth. The attack bringing him to his knees in just a few moments. The suit landed to Peters right while pepper creeped in from the left. All three held their arms out at the crippled man, his black helmet glaring right back at them. 

"That sure knocked the fight outta you, didn't it?" Tony gloated. His voice booming through the suit's speaker system. "How about we take that helmet off? Nice and slow?" 

Peter flinched when the man spoke. "How about you... hold on." He put his head on the floor, and caught his breath. Peter could here a audible wheeze, like sand rattling in a bag. "I can't finish the threat. But just know that I was probably gonna say something _really_ threatening. And no, I ain't taking this helmet off." 

Defiance. He was strong, Peter had to admit. A part of him admired it in the moment, although it was annoying to be on the receiving end. 

The Iron Man's repulser gauntlet whined as it charged. "Fine. Have it your way." Tony growled, as the Man in Black shakily got back to his feet. 

The repulser beam shot forward and slammed into a wall of distorted light. Peter resisted the urge to rub his eyes as the beam flipped itself around, and blasted Tony's suit right in its chest, knocking the armor back onto the ground. Peter _couldn't_ help but to allow his eyes to dart to the place where his idol had fell. 

"Kyah!" 

He heard the war cry before he felt the heat. The blue flames smashing into his chest with surprising solidarity. He never expected fire to have such frightening weight behind it, the intensity knocking him to the floor like a bag of bricks. 

His vision flashed black for what felt like a second, but the Iron Man suit was already destroyed, and the man in black was already charging at Pepper by the time Peter's vision came back. 

The man in black burst forward. Lightning propelling him like a magnetically charged missle launcher. Pepper tried to ward him off with another repulser blast, but the man had already grabbed the device off her wrist and kicked her away by the time she could react. She slammed into the bar back first before crumpling to the ground, a audible gasp escaping her as the air was knocked from her lungs.

"Ms. Potts!" Peter screamed. He tried to work his way back to his feet, but his legs refused to co-operate. 

Blue flames cloaked the man in black again as his helmeted head snapped to Peter, a growl emanating from the figure, and peter braced himself for another attack, one he would have to defend himself against while on buckling knees. However (and luckily for Peter) the nano-tech shield dispersed, and sunlight flooded the room, and filled it with a thick silence. 

Peter could almost see the cogs turning as the man in black made a silent decision, focusing the blast of blue flames at the window instead of Peter. The glass beaded up like a car's windshield would as it shattered outward, the man in black propelling himself into the air immediately after. Peter's eyes snapped to Pepper, and widened when he found her staring right back at him. 

"I'm fine! Go after him!" 

_Sigh..._

That's right. That was a mental sigh. Peter felt like he was walking on stilts as he ran.... well stumbled to the window, throwing himself out of it. The wingsuit system activated itself as he glided over the Man in Black's path, swinging from buildings with a red lightning whip in the same way that Peter does with his webs. 

"Copy cat." Peter muttered under his breath before concluding that Copy Cat would be a much better name then Man in Black. 

_Maybe I can make a list of names in detention and then ask Ned which one is best?_

Peter dove, attempting to swoop down on the Man in Black like a raptor, clipping the man with his foot before breaking the fall with his webs. The man lost control, and fell onto a parked taxi, crushing the roof in the process. 

Peter swung down and landed on top of him, his weight on the man's hips as he pinned the man down by his wrist. 

Okay, heres the thing. In the back of Peter's mind he knew he made a mistake already. However he didn't realize what that mistake was until the man bucked him up and over him, the two of them rolling onto the concrete a few inches apart. 

"You were supposed to sit on my chest, ya fucking idiot." His opponent quipped, curiously getting to his feet significantly slower then Peter had. "Unless you were trying to seduce me that is. In that case.... not bad. The tight suit helps but the colors are all wrong. You should were grey, or black like me."

"Im not trying to seduce you!" 

"Yeah my pants just got tighter because you _totally_ weren't trying to seduce me." 

Peter cringed, but ignored the urge to fire back with a comment of his own. Instead he took a fighting stance, and carefully charged forward at the man in black. 

He was _way_ more careful then he was the first time they met. Peter didn't just rush in and start swinging. However, when the Man in Black started to counter, and brought Spiderman down to his knees, Peter admits he went a little rouge. 

Peter was sent reeling back by a cross that connected cleanly to his nose. He could feel the blood gushing against his mask, and into his mouth. His hand gripped onto a drain pipe to steady himself as he caught his breath. 

The Man in Black plotted forward, and Peter saw red. So in a act of rage and desperation, he ripped the pipe off the stone wall it had been mounted on, and swung it like a baseball bat right into the side of the Man in Black's head. 

He heard the visor shatter like glass, and for a moment Peter felt like he may have gone too far. However when the man's head shot back up at him, he felt like he may not have gone far enough.

A black sclera, and the bluest, brightest eyes he had ever seen glared at him through the break in the man's visor. They flashed with radioactive cyan brilliance at Peter, as the man burst forward. 

_And then everything went black._


	3. $18.52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruh, writing all this at work is exhausting. My irritation with all the customers affect my work. Took like 3 god damn months to write this.

"Friday, bring up everything we have on Copy Cat." Tony commanded before leaning close to Peter and whispering. "The name still makes no sense for him by the way." 

"Sigh.... I know. I wanted it to be Red Lightning, but Ned beat me in the coin toss." He says. A holographic display lights up a few feet infront of them. News, police and personal reports of 'Copy Cat' filter out from the web of information. "He's been busy." 

Tony gave him a glance before pulling up the most recent data he could find, a small news article from some online source Peter didn't recognize. The date was from three days ago, and the title was ' _Terror in Albany'._

Peter quickly scanned over the article quickly, and for the life of him couldn't figure out why it wasn't front page news. Sure, a lot of details were obviously missing from the report, but two things immediately jumped out to peter. 

Firstly his eyes stopped on the words 'Vulture _gang' ,_ and a shiver shot up his spine as memories of Adrian Toomes and his mechanical murder suit came flooding back. Of course Adrian himself was currently on Reiker's Island, but his gang was still at large for the most part. 

Halfway through the article things got _interesting_ to say the least. He read the words, sure. But it didn't compute initially, and he felt his eyes jump back to their spot. 

"Fo- _fourteen_ dead!?" Peter stuttered, shooting Tony a confused look, as if to confirm the sentence. "Fourteen!?!" 

"That brings his total kill count to thirty four." 

"Thirty four!?" He exclaimed a bit louder then he meant to. His hands cover his mouth, and he shoots Tony a apologetic glance before whispering. "Thirty four? I thought he didn't kill people!?" 

"Really? Did he tell you that?" 

"Yes!" He yelled. Why he felt the need to shout so loudly at Tony, he's not sure. Maybe a part of him wanted to belive that the Man in Black (yes in his heart of hearts thats still his name) was just a guy in a black body suit. Going a against a super powered guy with lightning is a little bit better then going against a super powered **_killer_** with lightning! "Well no. But he implied it! He said he was 'turning over a new leaf' or something like that." 

"Well as a expert on 'turning over new leafs' let me tell you relapsing is part of the process." He pulled a few more files to the front. The holographic news papers reacting to his touch as if it were the real thing. "He's been hunting down the Vulture's pals. My guess is he's stealing their tech, although its just a hunch. But to be fair my hunches might as well be concrete evidence." 

Peter resisted the urge to roll his eyes and listened to the man continue. 

"So far criminals are the only people we know he's killed, though there were a few cops in Midtown he busted up pretty bad. One of them is in a wheelchare and the other will never hold a gun steady again, so he's not exactly being as _sensual_ as he was with you." 

_I really need to figure out how to delete that footage._

_"..._ That's actually why I'm putting you in charge this time." Tony said, knocking Peter back into the present. Peter asked him to repeat himself, and after a few moments of berating, Tony finally did. "He obviously has a soft spot for you. Otherwise he would have put that bullet in your head and not your shoulder." 

"He didnt flat out murder me and so he must have a soft spot for me? He didn't kill Ms. pots either." 

"Would you rather I put Pepper in charge of the investigation?"

"What? No Mr. Stark, I want to do it!" 

"I thought so. I'll send over the relevant data to Karen. Just.... be discreet. I don't want to see your friends posting things about it on Facebook." 

Okay that happened twice! And he gave Ned a very stern (well, as stern as Peter is capable of) talking to. Ned has a deep affection towards Memes, and decided to make a few of his own pertaining to the Vulture. Which if he did it now would be okay, but at the time it was pretty sensitive information. 

Still, as Peter left the Avenger's tower and hopped on a train back to queens, he decided that he would clue Ned in anyways...under a watchful eye of course. He pulled out his phone, and was surprised to see Ned had already sent him a message. 

————————————————— 

**Ned**

Hey dude! Come meet me at the pier tonight! I got a huge surprise for you ;) 

Dude, Im really tired. Can't this wait till tomorrow or something? 

**Ned**

Nope! Cmon dude you'll love it. Promise. Meet me by the fishmarket in a hour or so. Please? Its kinda important. 

————————————————— 

Peter growled at the screen for a moment. On one hand, he was _exhausted_ and desperately wanted to get some sleep. On the other, he _loved_ surprises! And what ever Ned had in mind for him would probably be good. 

Worth it? Maybe. He could always chug a sixpack of redbull like he does on study nights.

—————————————————

Fine. Give me a extra 20 on that hour though. Im already on a train, but I was heading home >:(

**Ned**

Yay! Text me when youre here. You wont be disappointed ;) 

————————————————— 

_He's being weird. Must be excited._

Peter sighed, and fought off the urge to sleep long enough to get on the two connective trains required to get him far enough downtown to walk to the docks. His head bobbed casually to the music in his ear buds, the cool air pleasantly stinging his face. A red hood keeping his ears warm as he hummed to the beat of the music. 

He always smelled when he was near the pier before he saw the boardwalk itself. Polluted salt water tends to have a pungent scent that stung his nose even before his enhancements. Was it pleasant? No, not in his opinion. But for some reason it was still comforting to know he was near the ocean. 

He leaned over the boardwalk's wooden railing and stared into the dark abyss twenty feet below him. He could see the moon light reflecting on its surface, but couldn't tell how deep the water was. 

Peter takes his phone out of his pocket and checks the time, 11:13 PM. He's on time, but Ned seems to be running late, which isn't unusual. Sure, Ned isn't a slob, and he's more or less pretty attentive, especially when it comes to Peter. But he is late every once and a while, though never for too long. 

Peter waited five minutes before he felt a knot form in his stomach. His head screamed " _danger"_ although he pushed the pushed the fear away rather quickly. He drummed his fingers on the wooden railing, and fidgeted with his phone, glancing at the time and checking for missed messages. 

"Where the hell are you Ned?" He whispers under his breath. His breathing sped up a little, and his foot began to tap. A steady, but fast drum beat echoed softly as his heel mashed against the wood planks below him. 

"Are you ever not nervous?" It wasnt Ned's voice, so Peter ignored it, thinking the voice was talking to someone else. However the presence never left, and actually scooted a few feet closer to him. "I thought you said it was rude to ignore people?" 

_Oh no...._

A sharp chill shot through his spine like a bullet, his breath catching in his throat as he peeked at the man over his shoulder. 

He was right to assume that the Man in Black was around his age, although he still couldn't tell for sure. He was unclean, his dark tanned face was smudged with dirt, a fresh cut under his left eye where the blood dried into his skin. His raven black hair was clumpy, and tangled, but still long enough to cover his ears. His sclera were white, unlike last time he saw them. But those eyes were still incredibly blue. So blue that Peter couldn't help but stare into them, swearing that they glowed and moved like the water beneath them. 

His lips were cracked, and split, but still curled into a half, teasing smile. "It's the eyes right?" He asked, although it was more of a statement. "Yeah. They kinda stand out. I didn't think you would recognize me if I covered em up." 

Peter shook himself out of his daze, a shot of anger blasting through him, and he grabbed the boy by his sweat shirt and pulled him close. His face grew into a snarl as he growled, "What the hell did you do to Ned!?" Yeah. His eyes defiantly glow! A spark of movement in those irises swirled around with what Peter ascertained to be surprise, and maybe a bit of anger. "I swear to God if you hurt him I'll tear those eyes outta your head!" 

Copy Cat brought his hand up to Peter's face, a blue flame searing his chin and forcing him to let go. With a gasp he jumped back, and Copy Cat (or Man in Black) brought his hand up, a small chrome cylinder in his hand with his thumb at the top. 

"You wanna talk? Or you wanna clean up body parts!?!?" He yelled, forcing Peter to stop in his tracks. He looked around to see if anyone had noticed, but since this is New York no one did. "Your whole city is barely sentient ain't it?" 

"What's your game here!?" Peter growled. His fist were balled tight. His knuckles turning white with tension and strain. "Why call me? Why do you have Ned's phone?"

The gaze they held on each other made Peter even more tense then he already was. He half expected lasers to shoot out of the boys cyan eyes any second now. "No game. I just wanna talk." He stated calmly, that childish tone suddenly completely vacant. 

But when Peter thought they were ready to have a normal, thought out conversation, that childish animation returned to the mans face and voice. "But not here though. I'm starving! How about we get something to eat?" He said, but Peter didn't move. "I have money...." 

So Peter had two options. Let Copy Cat go off on his own into the city, or be forced to go through what will most likely be the most awkward dinner of his life. "Do I really have a choice?" 

"Well since I have a detonator connected to three different bombs that you don't have the locations too...." 

He took a deep breath. "Point taken. Lets make this quick." 

Truth be told Peter doesn't know the area so well. However Copy Cat clearly knew even less then Peter did, and also had trouble understanding the concept of 'business hours'. 

He didn't understand that no one lived inside their restaurants, and that banging on the glass only served to make noise and annoy Peter. "That sign means they're closed!" 

"But that looks so yummy!" He whined, pointing at a photo of grilled salmon plated with a side of bacon topped asparagus. Peter admits that it did look _yummy_ , but thats besides the point. The restaurant has been closed for over a hour, as per the closed sign Copy Cat refused to acknowledge. 

"You can't have that they're closed! We gotta go somewhere else." Peter growled. He was growing increasingly impatient as violent, _chimpanzee_ thoughts flooded his neurons. In a move that he would later call risky, he grabbed the boy by the wrist, and forcibly (despite Copy Cat's threats) dragged him away from the restaurant. 

There was a pizza place Peter knew of a few blocks away that was open 24/7. It wasn't exactly his favorite place, but they were cheap, and he was friendly with the owners. He actually considered getting a part time job there before the whole _Spiderman_ thing happened. 

Turns out that Copy Cat had never had pizza before. Peter had to painstakingly explain the toppings and proper combinations to him. "Peperroni and cheese is a classic, but its a bit bland in my opinion." 

"I don't know what that is." 

"Its literally just pepperoni and cheese." 

"No... I mean I don't know what _pepperoni_ is. I never heard of that before." He says, struggling to pronounce the subject in question. Peter still couldn't put a place on his accent, but apparently pepperoni isn't a thing there. "Is it like a plant or?.." 

"It's a spiced meat." 

"Oh! Is it like chorizo?" 

"No. Not even a little. How do you know what chorizo is but not pepperoni?" 

"A family of Mexican people allowed me to come into their party." He explained, that small satisfied half smile spreading on his stained face again. "They fed me a lot. Mexicans are very kind..." 

"Yes they are." 

Peter already had the suspicion that they were taking _way_ too long to decide on their food. But he wasn't sure until the cashier taking their order, a pretty college girl who's name-tag read 'Sophie', politely asked them to hurry. 

"Aughhh!" She screamed loud enough to make both of them jump and turn to her in unison. 

"Oh my god are you two gonna fucking order TONIGHT!? You've been holding up the line for six minutes! Talkin bout 'whats mushrooms! Whats pepperoni? Whats pizza' really!?" Her (gorgeous) green eyed wrath focused on the boy opposite Peter. 

"How do you _not_ know what Pizza is? You fucking Dick!" 

Now Peter has lived in New York his entire life, so he was used to these little tirades. However he wasn't sure how Copy Cat would react to being the victim of such a event, and he watched him closely. His cyan eyes held a deadly focus on the young woman, a snarl threatening to break out on his face, though he managed to contain it. 

A shot of fear pushed through Peter's spine before he decided to take the reigns. "Just a extra large pepperoni and mushroom please." 

"What about the pizza?" 

Peter and the kind cashier lady both looked at Copy Cat. Both with the same incredulous look on their faces."I don't mean _literally_ one peperoni and one mushroom. I mean one pizza with pepperoni and mushroom toppings." Peter said. 

He held his gaze on Peter, inspecting his sincerity with his bright Cyan eyes for a moment before nodding in acceptance. Sophie rolled her eyes, but keyed it into the register. "$18.52." She mumbled, and Peter instinctively reached for his wallet before realizing that he did not have any money. 

_Copy Cat said he would pay..._

Copy cat reached into his pocket and produced four $20 bills, placing all of them in the counter. Sophie looked at the stack, as if she was having trouble deciphering the transaction. "The fuck is this? I said $18.52!" 

Copy Cat nodded, but didn't move. After a few silent, and painfully awkward seconds, he glanced over at Peter with the obviously look of distress on his face. Unfortunately Peter was suffering from a bout of confusion induced paralysis, and provided no help nor indication of what his next move should be. So, thinking on his feet, Copy Cat reached into his pocket and produced six more twenties, placing them on the stack. 

There was now $200 present for a bill of $18.52

Sophie, who had suddenly become mute, grabbed the stack, and deposited $20 into the register before depositing the rest into her front left pocket. "Your order number is 45. It should be ready in around ten minutes." She said in half a whisper before turning her attention to Peter. "Just... just go find a place to sit. I need to take a break." 

Peter was never a booth vs table type of guy. In all honesty he couldn't care less where he sat. But in this particular case he felt more secure in booth for some reason, and chose the one farthest from the door should Copy Cat try to make a break for it. 

They sat down, and Peter noticed a strange, maybe even sad look on the opposite's face. "What?" 

"We didn't get the food." He said with a pout. He rested his cheek in his palm with his elbow propped against the table, and absolutely _refused_ to look at Peter. "I paid $18.52 for it too..." 

"Two things. One, the food is still being made, so don't worry about that. And two, you gave her $200." 

Of course he didnt understand where $200 stood on the scale."Sooooo more? Less? Not enough? Too much?" 

"Way too much." Peter said. Copy Cat grumbled something under his breath and then proceeded to pout. "How much money do you have anyways?" 

He threw a stack of 5's 10's and 20's on the table, as if it meant nothing at all to him. Which to be fair it probably didn't, especially after that fiasco a few minutes ago. Peter sorted and counted up all the cash. 

"One hundred eighty five thousand dollars." He says. He actually had to recount the money to make sure he didn't over count by accident. "How the hell did you get this much money? Did you rob someone!?" 

"No, I didn't rob anyone! I took it from the money boxes just like everyone else!" 

"Money box?" Peter echoed. At first he thought Copy Cat could mean a church collective box, but that didn't feel right for some reason. Out of his eye he saw a ATM next to the front door of the restaurant, and the clues clicked for him.

"By money box do you mean _that_?" He asks, pointing at the object in question. Copy Cat peeked at the Machine, and smiled. 

"Yeah it was like that! Not that one specifically though. A bit towards the big light center." 

One of the waiters dropped two glasses of water off with straws in front of them. Copy Cat immediately went to town on the drink, closing his eyes and sucking the water to the halfway point before the waiter even walked away. Peter didn't get a good look at the waiter because he was too busy looking at Copy Cat. 

_He can't really be this stupid._

On one hand, Peter knew nothing about him. But even he should know that you're not supposed to break into ATM's to steal money! Right? He seemed so unbothered by his actions that Peter suddenly lost whatever appetite he managed to build up. 

Luckily Copy Cat was just as silent as he was until the Pizza arrived, although he seemed a bit confused about the Pizza itself. "Its...triangles?" 

"Slices." Peter quickly corrected. Luckily the smell of the pizza was enough for him to get a appetite again, and he picked the first slice, Copy Cat following his lead. 

The pizza was consistently good. Which is why this spot is one of Peter's go too places if he's ever in this area. However Copy Cat seemed to be having a bit of a semi-pleasant experience with his first slice of pie. 

Despite the fact that he is able to expel literal flames from his body, the initial heat of the pizza proved to be too much for him. He took too big a bite, and immediately started fanning his mouth and making those breathless "aaahhh" noises with a open mouth. 

Peter couldn't resist. "Careful its hot." He warns in his most sarcastic voice, earning a brief, angry glance at the boy in front of him. It was then that Peter noticed his canines were a bit more pronounced then normal, both the top and bottom set. They weren't super pronounced like a wolves or gorillas, and he probably wouldn't notice them if he wasn't looking, but he made a mental note of it anyways. 

Copy Cat's frantic craze began to fizzle out, and his breathing returned to normal with only a slight hint of tears in his eyes. A satisfied smirk emerges on his face as the flavor overtakes the pain."Ned is fine by the way."He said, earning Peters immediate, and undivided attention. Peters posture shifts from slouching slightly to becoming fully attentive, almost like a canine would. "I slipped his phone away from him when he got off the bus earlier today. He never even saw me. I'm not in the habit of hurting people minding there own business. Draws too much attention." 

Peter didn't care that his elated sigh was loud enough to earn a glance momentary from Sophie, who was fresh off her break. 

"How did you even know who he was?" 

"Stark keeps tabs on all your friends. All I really had to do was figure out his bus route and intercept him. He has a bad habit of walking with his phone out, so I just grabbed it and blended in with the crowd." He explained with a chuckle. "Its _nearly_ impossible to follow someone if the crowd is big enough. I found that out the hard way a long time ago hehe. Oh..." He reached into his jacket pocket and tossed Neds phone towards Peter. 

The device was just as intact as it was the last time Peter had seen it in Ned's grasp. However, Peter eyed the phone with a level of suspicion that increased by the second. "What did you do to it?" He asked, glancing up with a scowl. "You put something in this didn't you?" 

"No." 

"A tracking device? Some sort of chip?" 

"It already has a chip! It's a part of the phone." 

"Then malware? Some sort of bug or virus or something?" 

"I don't even know how to do that!" 

"YOU HA..." Peter caught himself mid scream, and took a deep breath. He didnt even realize that he had gotten that worked up until his voice pierced his own ears, although the boy in front of him just held a scowl. "You hacked into a stark industries server room! You expect me to believe you cant figure out a iPhone?" 

" _I_ didn't hack shit. That ain't my job. All I did was get someone close enough to do the hacking for me." He says. His stare was cold, and stoic, almost as if someone else had possessed his body. "Don't over think your opponents, Peter. Over anticipation can be just as dangerous as under estimation." 

Peter replayed the events of that day in his head. From the panic attack, to hitting Copy Cat with a pipe. He can't recall a single hint that would indicate that there was anyone other then Copy Cat there that day. So with a growl he said, "You're lying. You were alone in the tower that day. If anyone else was there I would have sensed them for sure!" 

"No, I was the only person _you sensed_ , Peter. I wasn't alone. Hell, I ain't alone now as a matter of fact." He said with a smirk, as if he knew Peter would look over his shoulder the second he uttered the sentence. "Don't bother looking for anyone. You'll only see them if they want you to. Trust me on that." 

"Why would I trust anything you have to say to me!?" Peter said. "You're a liar, a thief, and a murderer! Nothing you say to me today will change those facts! So what the fuck are we doing here?!?" 

His eyes disconnected from Peters, and suddenly he became extremely shy. "I need a favor." He mumbled under his breath. Suddenly his back was straight, and he acted so polite, like a child asking for a Christmas present.

He said it so innocently that it was actually kind of cute, ya know? Peter even let out a little chuckle once he processed it."Hehe... you're joking. Why would I help you?" He asked, biting into his first slice of pizza.

"I didn't say you were helping me. I said I need a favor. Big fucking difference." He paused to gulp down the rest of his water, each time he swallowed a painful grimace showed itself on his face. "You're in charge of investigating me right? I'll answer some of your questions if you promise to hear me out." Peter stopped mid bite. He had never mentioned anything about the investigation to Copy Cat. Hell he didn't even know until a few hours ago! 

Copy Cat smirked when he read the obvious confusion plastered on Peters face."I anticipated it." He said. "I figured that Tony would notice my little soft spot for you. And after that whole Vulture fiasco you had, I assumed he would be chomping at the bit to offload some work onto ya." 

_Liar._

The word hit Peter's brain immediately, and viciously. Copy Cat was a spy after all. A manipulator, and a killer. He lied by trade, and did it well. In reality he probably planted dozens of bugs all over the Avenger's tower, and was listening in and recording 24/7. 

Of course Peter didn't say anything out loud and just put it in his back pocket to deal with later. Instead, he nodded."So you'll answer my questions?" 

"In a manner of speaking, yes." 

_In a manner of speaking...._

He sighed, and took another bite before placing the slice down on the paper plate in front of him."Okay. Whats your goal? Why are you spying on me?" 

"Those two things have nothing to do with each other." Copy cat said with a half chuckle that quickly turned into a stone faced glare. "First, my goal is to go home. I assure you I dont want to be here anymore then you want me to be. But for now im stuck with no way of getting back on my own. Second, I'm spying on Stark, you just happen to be in my line of sight." 

_Want's to go home. Spying on Stark._

"Okay. Why are you spying on Stark then?" 

"Well if I told you that, you would tell him. Then that presents a problem to me, and I can't allow that, can I?" That stone face glare morphed into a teasing, damn near flirtatious half smile.

It filled Peter with so much anger

"You said you would answer my questions!" He screamed, slamming the table so hard it split in half, there drinks and food clattering to the ground. Peter and Copy Cat moved at the same time, a snarl on both their faces.

"Hey! Knock it the fuck off and take it outside you two!" Sophie screamed, effectively halting the impending carnage. Peter's brown eyes pierced through Copy Cat's swirling, cyan ones. They both dared each other to reach out, to start the conflict that would surely get Peter banned from this pizza place if he wasn't already. 

So Peter took a deep breath, and took the high road. He let his body relax before he bent over to pick up the pizza box, which luckily safeguarded the pizza inside its cardboard protective barriers. With a grunt he turned his back on Copy Cat and walkout out of the building, leaving him confused and filled with bloodlust. 

In New York the ground is always wet, even if it hadn't been raining. Peter didn't need augmented senses to know Copy Cat was trailing him. Hell if the pitter patter oh him intentionally stomping into every puddle he crossed wasn't enough of a indication, the loud humming of a song Peter didn't even know was. Peter didn't even know where he was walking. All he knew was he wanted to get away from Copy Cat. 

Unfortunately for Peter, Copy Cat either didn't realize that, or didn't care, and jogged up to walk along side him. Peter tried to pretend that he wasn't there, keeping his eyes forward and his hood on. But he could feel the boys gaze scanning him, and that sickening smile he held while doing it. 

"You got in trouble~" He sang directly into Peters ear. Peter hadn't expected him to get so close, but managed to avoid jumping in surprise. "Anyways, my answer to your question is that I have no interest in harming Stark. Actually I'm obligated to protect him in a way.... and before you ask, no. I can't tell you why." 

Copy Cats arm snuck its way around Peter's waist, this time making him jump and shutter. He put his mouth so close to Peter's ear that he swore he could feel the heat of his breath through the hood of his jacket. "I'm obligated to protect you too, actually." He whispered.

He cringed, and raised his shoulder as a type of shield between him and the cyan eyed boy invading his privacy."Me?" He said, peeling the boys hand off his hipbone."Okay, can you tell me why?" 

"Absolutely." He said, continuing to trot almost playfully along side Peter."I'm not going to, but I'm perfectly capable of it." 

Naturally Peter yelled obscenities at him, and tried to look as intimidating as he could. Which of course is impossible when not only have you already lost a fight to the person you're trying to intimidate, but you're also a inch shorter, and carrying a pizza box."Okay okay calm down hehe. I'll tell ya."

"Is this going to be one of those annoyingly vague answers that doesn't explain much?" 

"Oh fuck yeah it is." He giggles, and rips the pizza box out of Peter's hands. "But I'm still hungry. Lets finish this up first, okay? Please?" 

Peter sighed, and questioned the life decisions that got him to this moment, but went along with Copy Cat anyways. They found a quite little allyway a block or so away, and while Peter wasn't too excited about it, Copy Cat didn't seem bothered in the least. 

_He's homeless._

He was dirty, and his clothes were tattered and ill fitting, but it wasn't until he plopped down onto the concrete and a piece of news paper poked out of his jacket sleeve that Peter knew for sure. Newspaper is a pretty common insulator here in the big apple, so Peter managed to put it together almost instantaneously. 

He sat on the ground next to Copy Cat and ignored how cold the concrete was underneath him. Luckily the pizza was still hot, and they both ate in silence for a few minutes.

"Stark cares about you." Copy cat said, breaking the silence."So if you get hurt or killed, it'll distract him. That effects my plans, and I don't want that. Also, I _actually_ do have a bit of a soft spot for idiots who are in over there head." 

He said it with a smile, and Peter knew that it was a tease. But the words themselves hurt Peter something fierce."I'm not in over my head!" Peter growled, shooting Copy Cat a glare that actually managed to startle him. "I'm fucking sick of everyone telling me I'm 'in over my head'! You, Tony and fucking Toomes! Hell even May is giving me shit now! Saying I'm not fucking qualified, or experienced, or fucking strong enough to hold my own!" 

Copy Cat groaned, and rolled his eyes."Ey, man I'm not a fucking therapist. I don't give a bull dog's fat cock about your little grievances okay? Damn." He said with a snarl before going back to his food. 

Peter took a deep breath, and leaned his head back to rest along the wall."It's just so _fucking_ annoying having everyone doubt me, ya know?" He whined.

He heard the boy sitting beside him chuckle to himself lowly before saying, "I do actually. But you can't fault them for it, can you?" Peter shot him a look.

"You've lost everytime you met a equal. Hell, even Toomes almost killed ya." 

**Toomes**. Even the fucking name is enough to send Peter back in time, crashing onto the beach, his body cut and bruised and agonizing. His breath caught in his chest as he shot up to his feet.

"Fuck you! I beat Toomes!" He screamed down at Copy Cat. Those swirling Cyan Eyes opened a little wider with surprise, but after a moment of mutual paralysis the two boy's hearts slowed down a little bit, and Copy Cat put his slice down to lookup at Peter.

"No, you _survived_ Toomes. There's a **big** difference. He could have stabbed that wing right through you like a fish on a skewer, but _he_ chose not to. He was in complete control of that situation. You won Peter, sure. But you sure as hell didn't beat him."

Peter wanted to feel angry. Wanted to lash out at Copy Cat and hurt him and call him names. But his words cut through down to his core, and sliced apart whatever self confidence he had left. His words were harsh, and blunt, and _way_ too easily said. But they were true, and Peter couldn't even convince himself that they weren't.

He felt his body deflate, and he allowed himself to sit and settle next to the boy again. "What did you learn about me when we fought?" Copy Cat asked, catching him off guard.

"What?" 

"What did you learn about me?" 

"How the hell was I supposed to _learn_ anything with you trying to bash my skull in!?" 

What the hell is with his eyes! Seriously! They look so natural on him, and at the same time Peter swears they're artificial. Every time he rolls them they shimmer, and every time they lock with Peter's his breath gets caught in his throat."Think about it..."He says, lobbing his head to rest against his own shoulder. "You're strong. _Ridiculously_ strong, but you don't know how to use it. You're fast, agile, and your reaction time is _annoyingly_ instantaneous. But you lack precision, and timing. Rhythm, and foot work. So adding all that together tells me you weren't born like this. That you're inexperienced, and don't have a clue what you're doing." Peter felt a hole carve itself in the pit of his stomach, his shoulders slumping as his eyes went to the floor. Having Copy Cat lecture him like a failing elementary school student was beyond embarrassing."That ain't your fault, Peter. No one has ever taught you how to fight. You're insanely smart, and so people only helped you in a academic sense. You remind me of my brother in a few ways hehe." Copy Cat's face twisted up like he hadn't meant to say that last part. He brought his knees up to his chest and hugged them tightly. "I wanna go home." 

It was a moment of vulnerability, of _humanity_ that Peter didn't expect. He would be lying if he said it didn't make him relax at least a little bit."Where are you from exactly?" Peter asks, and Copy cat takes a few moments to look at him again. It reminded Peter of what it was like to meet a puppy for the first time, that initial trepidation, the mental weighing of pros and cons. He must have decided to trust Peter in some way because he pointed his finger to the sky a few moments later. 

"You can't see it through all the light pollution, but I think in that direction." 

It's not like Peter didn't have his suspicions. The first time they met was right after Copy Cat crashed a craft that neither he nor Karen had seen before. "You're an alien?" He asked, although it was more of a statement then a question.

"To this planet I am." 

"Why are you here?"

In this situation, the "why" is more important then the "where". Peter really doubts that Copy Cat flew millions of light years through space just to become homeless in New York. "If I tell you, do you promise to keep it secret?" Copy Cat held a gaze on him, looking for any sign of dishonesty, and Peter held his breath, but nodded."You can't tell Stark, or Ned or anyone at all, okay? It puts you and them at risk. Understand?" He said, and Peter nodded again. Copy Cat held his hard stare, and took a deep breath, never once taking his eyes off of Peter."I'm being hunted." 

He blinks. "Alien hunters? Or _alien_ hunters?" Peter asks. Its a important clarification after all, although Copy Cat didn't seem to think so. 

"Whats it matter?" 

"Well alien hunters are normal people who hunt aliens. _Alien_ hunters are hunters who are also aliens..... get it?" 

"Peter, 'Aliens' is like the n-word to us, so cool it." Copy Cat warned with a cute giggle."They're called the Silver Serpent Mafia.... at least that's the closest translation anyways." 

"How do you know english anyways" 

"That's a good question." He said, and just stared at Peter. After a few awkward and silent seconds, Peter decided to move on.

"Why are they hunting you?" 

"Thats complicated. I don't want to talk about it. Kinda a sore subject." 

Peter nodded, not wanting to set him off. However there is one thing that is still bothering Peter.

"If I ask you your name, will you tell me?" He asked, and Copy Cat shrugged with a bit of a mischievous grin.

"I'll tell you _a_ name. Anythings better then Man in Black." 

"Its actually Copy Cat now." Peter couldn't help the smile. Especially when Copy Cat's face scrunched up in a cringe that looked almost painful. "Yeah it's horrible. I know." 

They share a laugh and Peter lets himself close his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, Copy Cat has his hand extended towards him, knuckles cracked and fingers bruised, but Peter takes it anyways, because his are the same. "Mike." He says. "Mike Oxlong."

Peter slapped his hand away, making 'Mike' grin."That is not your name!" He said, trying to look serious, but breaking down into a giggle despite himself.

Mike twisted his head, and shifted his body to face Peter a little more, their knees touched, but neither of them seemed to mind. "It kinda is! It's a code name actually." He said rolling his wrist as he explained. "In my family 'Oxlong' means _infiltrator_. So if someone wanted to hire me or someone else in my family for a infiltration job, they would ask for _something_ Oxlong, so we would know what kinda job we were taking. I got to chose my first name though. I picked it because it sounds like..." 

Peter put his hand over his ears the same way he did when he was a child and heard bad words on TV. "I know! I know what it sounds like hehe." He giggled in a high pitch that brought a slight embarrassed blush to his cheeks, and hid his face from Mike shyly. 

Luckily Mike wasnt looking at him, and instead played with his own hands nervously, and lolled his head from side to side to the tempo of some unheard song.

"So about that favor.... I promise it sounds a lot worse then it actually is." He said, capturing Peter's immediate attention.

"I kinda need you to stop being Spider Man for a little bit. Just until I can get outta here!" 

Peter's initial response was one of confusion. He never expected Copy Cat.....sorry, Mike to simply ask him to stop being Spider man.

"Okay, Why?" He asked the question before the request fully registered.

"Because the Silver Serpents aren't exactly as subtle as I am. I'll hide, they'll make a little noise, and then they'll move on. But if you get hurt, I have to come save you, and that confirms my position on this planet. Understand?" No, not really. Peter had no real clue what he was saying, and that made Mike scoff. He rolled his cyan eyes and explained."They don't want to start a war with Earth, Peter. They realize they don't have the man power for that right now. They just want me."

'Noise' means _violence;_ even Peter (with his limited experience) was able to decipher that much. He can't even begin to hypothesize the weaponry and strategy the Silver Serpents would employ, but if they scared Mike into hiding then they had to range between surgically precise and earth scorchingly destructive. There would be a whole city scared, and confused, and looking to Spider man, looking to _Peter_ to save them. To be a ray of light, a voice of hope in a dark time. How could they ever forgive him if he abandoned them when it mattered most? How could he ever forgive _himself_? "Theres a lot of people who depend on me. I can't just hang up the suit and sit it out, Mike. I would never forgive myself."

"Peter." It was forceful, authoritative, not at all joyful or playful like it had been. "You're a symbol here. Doesn't take a genius to decipher that. But the Silver Serpent Mafia doesn't kill symbols, they break em. They'll break you body first, hang you by your tendons, smash your teeth, shove glass down your throat. Then they'll heal you, and do it all over again. They'll posses your mind, and drive you insane, and once you're compromised like that theres no coming back. They'll put a gun in you hand, aim it at those you love most, and make **you** pull the trigger. They won't stop until everyone you love is dead, and they will make this city watch while they do it. You want that?"

Of course Peter didn't _want_ that. Hell having Mike describe it made his throat dry up with apprehension. He felt his eyes widen as a sliver of fear shot up his spine, and forced him to his feet."I-I have to go!" He stutters out before his feet briskly lead him away.

"Just think about it okay!?" Mikes voice managed to reach him, but he just waved it off. His breathing accelerated rapidly, and he blinked away the tears that were forming in his eyes. But there was something in particular bothering him. A gnawing, aching feeling that told him he was forgetting something important. 

His feet stopped, and his breath caught in his throat as he turned around and yelled,"Wait the bombs!"

Mike, who was about to indulge in whatever was left of the pizza, looked up at Peter with a surprised annoyance. "Hmm?Oh yeah." He pushed his hips up slightly to allow his hand to fish through his right pocket, pulling out that terrible chrome device. With a smirk he popped off the cap and pressed the cylinder against his lips, looking Peter right in the eyes. 

"It's chapstick."


End file.
